Through a naturalist’s eyes
"As I write this, there is a Song Thrush singing its heart out in the garden. (And before I go any further, may I make a plea to change its name to Throstle, Garden Thrush or any one of several venerable old names. Then I could avoid such repetitive infelicities as 'the song of the Song Thrush'). One can argue endlessly over the merits of the songs of different species. Preferences depend as much on memories and evocations as on musical excellence: the mellow fluting of a Blackbird on a still, mild evening; the cheerful, if monotonous, chiming of a Chiffchaff heralding the spring from bare twigs; or the purring of a Turtle Dove on a sultry summer's day."